


Pas de Deux

by INKQueen



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Dance terms, Dancing, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, also Music Terms, how does write dancing???, i guess, this literally took my forever to write because i'm like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 06:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14466657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INKQueen/pseuds/INKQueen
Summary: Tim stumbles on Cass dancing in the manor and she asks him to join.





	Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

> I know everybody (canon and fanon) has different ideas about Cass and her relationship to language. For me, I like to write her as someone of few words who doesn't say more than necessary and often expresses herself through body language. Let me know in the comments if you have a problem with it, though I might not reply.

Tim had been staring through the doorway for ten minutes before his tired brain caught up with what he was seeing. He’d been headed to the cave, but had somehow ended up staring into one of the mansion’s gyms, specifically the one with the sprung wooden floor. Cass was working on the ballet barre, and had only now turned to acknowledge his presence.

“Mmf. Sorry. Don’t mind me,” Tim said apologetically. Cass shrugged with a tilt of her head, simultaneously showing forgiveness and giving Tim permission to stay if he wanted. Then she picked up the metal barre she’d been using and set it against the opposite wall.

Tim sat down, back against the doorframe. Trying to figure out what he should be doing was too much work for his exhausted brain right now. Plus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Cass dance.

Cass laced on a pair of pointe shoes and clicked play on the pair of speakers in the corner. A piano cover of some pop song filled the room. Cass returned to the center of the floor, facing the bank of mirrors, ready to do the… whatchamacallit.  Cass had told him the name of the next exercise once but Tim couldn’t remember. _Something Italian, maybe?_

It was still nice to watch though. Cass moved with slow, gentle fluidity, suspending a leg high in the air, turning, extending, rising up, slowly coming down. Tim watched, mesmerized; it was like watching a time-lapse of a flower opening and closing on repeat. _Adagio,_ his brain finally supplied. _Italian for slowly._

Eventually, Cass returned to the center of the room.  She smiled at him over her shoulder and went to pause the music.

“Bravo,” Tim said.

Cass smiled abashedly at the praise for her warm up, and came over, offering a hand. Tim frowned.

“If you’re asking me to dance-” Cass nodded enthusiastically. Tim shook his head. “I think Dick would be better in this case.”

Cass pouted. “Pas de deux. I need a partner.”

He sighed and stood. Cass beamed and bounced over to the other side of the room, grabbing a pair of leggings off a bench -- probably Dick’s -- and tossed them to him. Tim caught them, then pulled his gray hoodie off the tank top he was wearing underneath. Cass swapped back from pointe shoes to slippers and pulled the barre back out while Tim changed from jeans to leggings.

“Cass, this is me we’re talking about,” Tim said, joining her at the barre. “I can’t even do yoga, so I’m not sure ballet is really…”

Cass clucked her tongue reproachfully. “Silly. You do jump splits in combat,” she admonished.

Tim was taken aback. He’d never considered himself particularly strong or flexible, especially not compared to his brothers, and had always relied on his brain over his body. But for Cass to defend his abilities like that… well, he was touched.

“Um, thanks.”

Cass nodded as she clicked the music back on before coming to stand in front of him at the barre. She guided Tim through a barre routine, demonstrating the movements, then coming back to correct Tim’s posture or technique.

It really wasn’t too bad, though Cass kept frowning at his arms and prodding them, always with a “rounder.”

“Not my fault. I just have pointy elbows,” Tim complained. Cass pulled gently on one leg while holding his hip in place.

“This is arabesque.”

“I don’t think my back is -- ah ah ha! -- supposed to bend like that!”

Cass soon stopped the barre exercise and Tim was relieved; several of his limbs were starting to cramp.

After putting away the barre, Cass came back nodding. “You have a natural turnout.”

“I take it that’s a good thing.”

Cass smiled and nodded again.

“Are we going to do the, um, adagio?”

She shook her head as she headed over to the speakers. The song changed and she turned up the volume. A beautiful minor cello piece started. Cass started in the center of the room, and began demonstrating Tim’s part for the pas de deux. Even with Tim’s limited knowledge, he could tell the movements were more modern than the classical ballet Cass had been doing earlier. There was a bit more bending, and she stopped pestering him to hold his arms just so.

“Let’s run it,” Cass said. Tim nodded mutely. His head was swimming with choreography, but he was fairly sure he had everything.

Cass seemed to catch on to his situation, and paused the music. “Without music first. Slowly.”

Cass then went ahead and began dancing her part with him, having switched back to he pointe shoes. It wasn’t too bad. The movements were basic and Tim was used to her weight, so the lifts came easily. The stumbled through it a few times before Cass decided they should start working with the music.

The cello piece came back on, gentle, reminding Tim of something that might play over the opening to a dramatic movie.

He placed his hand on Cass’ hip, her back to his chest, facing the mirror. She spun out away from him, catching his hand on the way. Her shoes thumped on the floor. She spun back inwards to him, brushing past as he handed her off to the other hand. She flew away, still turning, arms arcing over her head. With long soft strides, Tim ran around to her other side, kneeling and catching both of her hands in his own as she extended her back leg high into the air.

She landed back on her toes and together they sashed across the floor and into a jumping fouetté. Tim noticed that there was only one landing sound; they were syncing up, falling into the easy rhythm that came from sparring and fighting together for years. When he wasn’t sure of the next step, Tim could lag a millisecond behind Cass, catching back up when her movements reminded him.

Cass leaped into his arms and Tim gave her a boost as she twined around his body, ending up perched on his shoulder, a graceful bird. Tim suddenly remembered Cass using a similar movement to incapacitate a thug two nights ago, riding on his shoulders while strangling him with a leg. Tim smiled as he helped her hop down.

Cass came around to face him, leaning her weight onto his shoulders so he could lift her for a high arabesque.

She quirked an eyebrow at his smile.

_What’s so funny?_

Tim blinked and gave a minute shrug while she was in mid-air.

_Nothing much. Just remembered something funny._

Cass smiled and took off to the corner for a run of turns while Tim got a break in the choreography from lifts. There was no need for words while the music danced on lettered notes around them.

It was… nice. Cass did most of the hard work, Tim was mostly just there to support and lift. He really just got to watch her dance and be part of it.

Eventually the song ended, a long drawn out note on a double stop, the twin tones ringing together and drawing a sympathetic resonance out of the cello.

Tim had no idea how three and a half minutes could feel so long. They ended together, her in front, him behind, arms outstretched so Tim thought it kinda looked like the _Titanic_ pose. They were both breathing hard, Tim harder than Cass. He could feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck, but he was still grinning like a fool into the mirror over Cass’ shoulder.

“Wow.”

Tim whirled around. Dick was standing in the doorway, and Tim had no idea when he’d gotten there. Cass wandered off to stop the next song from playing; she didn’t seem surprised at all, and Tim would’ve bet good money she’d know he was there.

“Dang Timbo, you’re good!” Dick was grinning his 100-watt grin.

Tim shrugged. “Good teacher.” He could see Cass smiling in the mirror.


End file.
